I lie here under the Indonesian sky. It’s a plain blue, cloudless, not even the slightest wisp; as if the day’s painter had run out of white paint and couldn’t be bothered to restock. I ponder for a slight second if it is right to call this the Indonesian sky; after all, does the sky belong to any of us?
indonesia
In all 5 ft 6 of me, patience is a scarce resource. It is common practice for me to rush from one task to another, to always think and plan ahead of time and overwhelm myself. Bali did not welcome my impatience; it sought to teach me the opposite…
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